


No Words Left to Say

by wynnebat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Grow Up Together, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Timeline Mashup, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 05:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12336447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: Tom Riddle was a level-headed, mature individual who was definitely not going to strangle Ginny Weasley.





	No Words Left to Say

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [No Words Left to Say (Chinese translation)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14450313) by [RicardoHarasaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RicardoHarasaa/pseuds/RicardoHarasaa)



> Harry and Tom's history is mostly handwaved, but this is a modern AU where they grew up in foster care together before going to Hogwarts. The title is from [Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGFToiLtXro).

Harry's search for the snitch wavered when he heard Ginny mutter, "Seriously?" under her breath. It could be a distraction tactic, he acknowledged, but he'd already won the past two rounds of their seeker versus seeker game, and if Ginny won then he could probably suffer the loss. And her gloating.

Harry turned his broom around and flew towards her. "What's up?"

"He's glaring at me," Ginny groaned. "I can literally feel it on my skin. One of these days he'd going to manage a killing curse just with the power of his eyes and no one will be able prove he killed me."

"I'll avenge you," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. He looked down at the ground, but Tom wasn't even looking at them. He was just talking to Ron, who looked amused with something. The sight made Harry smile. It felt great when his friends managed to get along. Before he could return his attention to Ginny, Tom looked up at him. He mouthed something, but Harry couldn't tell what it was. He flipped him off anyway; there was no doubt it was some insult. Tom smirked, but it wasn't his unhappy or irritated smirk at all.

"See? He's not glaring."

"Of course he's not," Ginny said with an air of deep suffering.

 

*

 

"I'd really like it if you didn't murder my sister, mate," Ron Weasley said, without a clue that he was echoing his sister's words. He had tried and failed to join Harry and Ginny in their friendly seekers rivalry, and now Tom was forced to deal with him on the ground. Tom would have left ages ago if not for the fact that the lack of his presence might allow the Weaslette to grow too comfortable.

"I have no idea what you mean," Tom replied, his tone a placid, friendly one. Tom Riddle as the vast majority of Hogwarts knew him was a brilliant student, all around good guy despite being a Slytherin, and helpful Head Boy. "She's a very good seeker. It's too bad she'll only get one year to play the position once Harry leaves."

Actually, it was a pity that she couldn't fall off her broom now and break her neck.

Ginny Weasley had snuck up on him, Tom thought as he stared up at the duo flying around the Quidditch pitch, ostensibly looking for the snitch in a best two out of three catches match, but actually laughing about something and flying around each other.

He'd been forced to encourage Harry's association with the Weasleys once he'd realized they were actually beneficial to Harry's emotional state. Their horrible upbringing in foster care had killed any interest Tom had in family, but it had only nourished Harry's desire for one. It had angered him, the way Harry needed more people when he could have been content with only Tom's presence, but eventually Tom resigned himself to the fact that Harry enjoyed the company of other people. It helped that even after all these years, the person whose company he most enjoyed was Tom's. Even if he ventured to the Weasleys for holidays, he would always celebrate with Tom first or find a way to drag him with him.

He'd thought the Weasleys more or less safe. Harry thought of them all as adoptive siblings of a sort. And then the whirl of hormones came and Tom realized Ginny had actually developed less than familial feelings for Harry. The nerve. Harry could say all he wanted that all he felt for her was friendship, but the future of him being engulfed into the Weasley family in a much more permanent way loomed like a boggart over Tom.

Ron sighed at him, which Tom took offense to, as he usually did to everything Harry's other best friend did. "Look, I know I'm wasting my breath, but you could consider letting go of Harry a bit. You're the most important person in his life, fine, whatever, but a bloke has needs and Harry's no different."

"He could fulfill those needs without a relationship." It would be nearly perfect if Harry were the type to just sleep around. Tom would hate it anyway, but it was less dangerous than Harry falling in love with someone.

Tom had made sure to tie Harry to him through bonds of friendship, but friendship wasn't enough now that they were leaving Hogwarts for the adult world in two months. He'd already seen more than one friendship fall when someone decided their partner deserved more attention than their best friend. It would begin with dating, and then marriage, and then god forbid children, which he fucking knew Harry wanted—

His quill snapped in his hand, splashing droplets of ink down on his Charms paper.

It was unbearable. He'd found ways to discourage everyone else Harry had found himself interested in, but the Weasleys were off limits. He and Harry had reached an agreement over it in first year and Harry would find out if Tom interfered with his precious redheads. Especially if Ginny turned up dead with hand-shaped bruises around her throat.

Ron glanced down at the quill, but was wise enough to say nothing about it. He was stupid enough to continue the topic of conversation, though. "You know him, he wants," Ron waved a hand, "well, everything. What his parents had, what he never got to have."

Tom's lips curled, dropping his facade. It was too much effort when Harry's closest friends were familiar with parts of his true self. There was no one around to hear them, anyway. He could be the perfect student in half an hour, when they returned back to the castle for dinner. "I know. It's disgusting."

"It's life," Ron said with a shrug.

"It's possible to have plans for the future that don't include relationships. I certainly don't."

"'Course you don't." Ron's attention turned to the sky again for long enough that Tom hoped he'd decided to watch the game instead. Unfortunately, he continued with, "I used to think for a long time that the only thing that got you off was plans for world domination."

Tom snapped his entire attention back to Ron, anger building quickly. "You would dare—"

"And then I realized you'd date Harry if you could, and not just because of your obsessive thing against him being friends with anyone else. You're in love with him."

Anger, it was anger he felt, and not something tight and suffocating. No one would believe Ron. He was an idiot. Harry would just— "And I suppose you immediately told him?"

"No, I didn't," Ron said, his words careful. "You're an arse and I hate you but I wouldn't do that."

Saved by Gryffindor honor. Delightful. "Good, since your small mind is mistaken, as usual."

Ron ignored him. "Besides, I couldn't tell him. I mean what if I accidentally got you two together by doing it? I'd never forgive myself."

Despite himself, Tom rolled his eyes. "That wouldn't happen."

"You sure?"

"I'm very sure," Tom replied. If there had been a single weakness in Harry's sexuality, he would have preyed on it years ago. Unfortunately, "He's straight."

"I am too, but I don't have any plans to my life with my best mate. Harry on the other hand is all about helping you take over the ministry or whatnot. And every time I talk about wanting to move out into my own place, he shrugs and says he can't relate."

If Tom lived in the hovel that was the Burrow, he'd want to move out, too. Harry had managed to drag him there for two Christmases and it was two more than he'd ever needed. In direct opposition was the small but proper wizarding house that Harry's parents had left him, which the two of them had moved into at the earliest opportunity. (Illegally, at age eleven and twelve, respectively, ditching their foster family completely. But the cover story was that they had moved in last summer upon coming of age.) "Of course not. We just found a place of our own. He spent the entire summer perfecting his bedroom and sneaking red and gold into the rest of the rooms. It would be a waste."

"Riddle," Ron said, exasperatedly.

"You sound like your mother."

"I feel like my mother. Look, I'm not saying this to help you out. I'm saying this because if you two graduate without figuring your shit out you'll get into an even bigger dysfunctional, codependent loop where you get pissed off whenever he flirts with someone at the ministry and he'll be upset and confused. Just... snog him. Take him to Madam Puddifoot's. Give him a rose and declare your love. Do something that spares me having to watch my sister's back for you sabotaging any relationship she and Harry might get into."

Tom got the feeling that Ron had been waiting to say those words for much too long. "And once our friendship is ruined, you'll be Harry's closest friend."

"I don't think there's anything that can break up your friendship. The last time I tried was in first year and I'm not reviving that inferi."

But Ron was wrong—there were things that nearly ruined their friendship. Maybe Ron had forgotten the few weeks in first, third, fourth, and sixth year that he and Harry hadn't been on good terms. Or maybe he was too Gryffindor to rub it in. Tom would have in his place.

"Just think about it, alright?"

"There's nothing to think about. Your delusions about my feelings is ridiculous, but if I hear of you speaking of this aloud to anyone, you won't live long enough to worry after your sister." Tom stood up, brushing any off dirt that might have fought into his robes and returning his things to his backpack.

"You're a real charmer, Riddle."

"Harry thinks so, yes."

Tom flicked a jinx over his shoulder nonverbally, trying to feel some sense of satisfaction as he walked away. Ron would begin to feel its effects in a minute. It should amuse him. Instead, he felt strangely hollow. As Tom walked, he heard a whoop of joy behind him. Harry had caught the snitch. There was laughter, teasing, (red hair tangling with black as they hugged, Tom had seen it a billion times but it was when he couldn't see it that it angered him most), a loud whine from Ron about dinner, something from Harry that he couldn't quite hear, and then—

"Wait up, Tom!"

Tom prepared himself to see Harry again and congratulate Ginny on her flying, but when he looked back, it was only Harry running towards him. The two Weasleys were lagging behind, Ginny carrying both her and Harry's broomsticks and waving them in a vaguely threatening manner towards Ron.

"Harry," Tom acknowledged.

Harry took it the way he should, a grimace flashing across his face. "Sorry, I know I asked you to spend the afternoon with me, but you got held up and then Ron and Ginny asked if I wanted to go flying. Um, at least you got the chance to do some homework?"

"Time that I've obviously been lacking," Tom replied with a huff.

Harry just grinned at him. "It was for something that's due in two weeks, right?"

"The Charms essay," Tom divulged. "You're the one one who's in need of more time set aside to his studies. I doubt you've even done the Transfiguration assignment."

"I've done my Divination one," Harry shot back, amusement carrying through his words.

"Ah yes, your latest dream journal," Tom replied, resigned. Tom couldn't imagine wanting to his waste time with electives such as Divination and Care of Magical Creatures instead of taking actually useful ones like Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, but it was an old argument, played out when they were bored with all their other arguments.

"Trelawney's going to love my dreams. I die in half of them. You even show up in one."

"Do I kill you?"

"You save me from a giant snake. You're very gallant and heroic and you're even holding the Gryffindor sword." Smugness looked terrible on Harry, but Tom couldn't look away.

"If you're going to shame me with bravery, you could at least make it the Slytherin sword."

"You already have a Slytherin swo—"

Harry dodged Tom's shove, laughing and nearly tripping into the Black Lake. "I'm too keyed up to sit still enough for dinner. Wanna walk around the Black Lake with me?"

"Trying to seduce me?" Tom asked, altering his path toward the Black Lake instead of the castle. The lake had some famous snogging spots; Harry had often bemoaned the fact that he hadn't managed to fulfill that particular Hogwarts cliche yet.

"No way," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

It was an easy denial, the kind that Tom had gotten used to. It didn't even irritate him much, usually. But it had been a long day, and then he'd had to put up with Ron's bullshit, and he'd had to see Ginny, and he'd found himself sliding into a mood worse than his usual irritated outlook on the world. Harry went on to talk about the newest Gryffindor gossip about who got together with whom and which couples had broken up. None of it was any good for blackmail purposes, but Tom responded with his usual dry replies. Halfway around the lake, they settled into a companionable silence, the kind that people who'd known each other for as long as they could have. They'd met at six years old; Harry had been a part of his life twice as long as he hadn't.

"Did Ron say something to you?" Harry eventually asked, breaking the silence. "You guys seemed to be getting along, but you seem a bit down now."

"As though Weasley could affect my emotional state," Tom huffed. Ridiculous—but true.

"Yeah, yeah, he's so low on the Quidditch pole that he doesn't register at all on your highness's emotional landscape." Harry yelped at the pinching jinx Tom sent his way. "Hey!"

"I'm still hoping you'll develop a Pavlovian response."

"Never. I'm the dog that won't stay down. Or whatever that study was about." Harry had heard it explained multiple times, but Tom was pretty sure the only facts Harry took to memory were about Quidditch and DADA. They walked in silence for a while, passing a swarm of luminescent fish, until Harry said, "Do I need to punch him?"

"You wouldn't."

"If he did something to deserve it. I mean I'd hear his side first but if he's really being a jerk I can punch him. I'm pretty sure he has a better right hook than me though, so you should be there to defend me. We can go all out, get all the Gryffs and Slytherins brawling."

"I don't know why I put up with you," Tom replied. But he did. It was damning, revolting, so very fucking human. He wanted to hate Harry for it, but he couldn't even blame it on him. This was all the product of Tom's brain. Before Harry could continue asking, Tom continued with, "We were just talking. Something he said reminded me there was a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. Are you taking Ginny?"

Harry shrugged. "I might see her around, get a butterbeer with her and the others."

Tom knocked his shoulder against Harry's. Harry had to have known what he'd meant. "You're not actually as dumb as you look."

"I look intelligent. It's the glasses."

"And the sloppy robes?"

"You have monopoly over the perfect genius position, but I could do the absentminded genius thing." Harry was a terrible liar, but he knew his way around obfuscating to avoid answering a question. Tom had taught him well, but the fact that Harry didn't want to answer about whether he was taking Ginny made him feel angry, yet also tired of that anger.

Jealousy was intimately familiar to him. The worst were the times when he knew he couldn't change the very strings of reality in order to get what he wanted. He could be powerful, he could be great, he would rise through the ranks of the ministry and make the world acknowledge him. But Tom could never transfigure the muggle blood out of his bloodstream. He could never become a good man (he never wanted to, but during the worst of his and Harry's fights, he wondered if life would be easier if there were warmth, kindness in his heart). Tom could never be Ginny Weasley (he didn't want to be, but he wanted to be able to grab Harry's shoulders and kiss him and be received with enthusiasm instead of confusion).

It was easier to push those feelings down and tease Harry instead. "Perhaps you could pull off the Quidditch genius look. It doesn't involve any books."

"That's half the reason I love it. But you and Ron weren't talking about Hogsmeade."

"No, we weren't." There were a thousand things he could say. Harry knew him well, but he didn't always catch Tom's lies. Tom knew how to spin it, but a part of him wondered if he should even bother. It was that self-destructive part of him that wanted everything and nothing, that wanted Harry in all the ways Harry wouldn't like. "We were talking about the future."

"His?"

"Yours." Out of the corner of Tom's eye, he saw a thestral flying above the lake. "Mine."

Harry's shoulders hitched slightly, but his words were filled with determination, not anger. "Are you still upset about me wanting to be an auror? Because you know I'd be good. And you know I'd be careful."

"I know. I've had to resign myself to the fact. Nott and Rosier will be joining you in the program." Upset hadn't covered Tom's rage at the thought that Harry wanted to put himself in danger protecting the rotten core of wizarding society, but he'd allowed Harry to win this argument. Guilting him into spending his life in a glass cage would never work, but of all things, an auror?

"Babysitters, really?" Harry asked, though he didn't sound surprised.

"You regularly call them the best of my minions. I could have sent Malfoy."

"Thank you for your favor, great lord Riddle." Harry's laugh was soft, fond. "Besides, I know you need him in politics."

"He does play an important role in my ten year plan."

In the next five, ten, twenty years, Tom would go further, become greater, than anyone ever dreamed he could. And yet Ron's words rang through his head as loud as wedding bells. Over the years, Tom had trained himself to take into account Harry's emotional well-being, because otherwise Harry would be irritating and might actually cry on him. And there were things regular, irritating people such as Harry needed. Tom could provide friendship, but he couldn't provide those soft, easily stepped on feelings that Harry wanted. Harry wanted someone like Ginny, someone who could love him like a kitten would, instead of the basilisk that was Tom's love. He had thought hard about pretending to be better than he was in this at least, but he wouldn't be able to keep up the charade and Harry would see through it anyway.

Tom was Harry's one exception to his many well adjusted Gryffindor friends, but he was his exception only in friendship. He'd stopped referring to Tom as like a brother around third year, but Tom had the horrible recurring thought that Harry could still believe so inside his stupid Gryffindor head.

But if Weasley had noticed, then others would. It was time to burn through the infection until his blood ran the proper color. Their time at Hogwarts was coming to a close. It had to end, this notion that perhaps Harry might allow Tom to take even more from him.

(Since third year, Tom had been paying one of the brave but not very honorable Gryffindors to let him know of any feelings Harry might be developing for anyone. Never had the Gryffindor brought back any news of homosexual experimentation. Tom was all for the idea of seducing Harry into love, but seduction had to build on something, anything.)

"We were talking about the fact that I didn't want you to date Ginny," Tom said, letting the words fall between them. Harry could make of them what he wished. It didn't feel like freedom, to let himself acknowledge his feelings, only a freefall without end.

Harry's denial was instant. "Mate, I'm not going to date Ginny. It would be weird. She's like a little sister to me. And she's Ron's sister."

"Like I am a brother to you?"

Harry stopped and turned towards him. Tom did the same, meeting his gaze with the blankest expression he could muster.

"I mean, if you want to put it that way," Harry said, his eyes glancing at Tom's mouth, the set of his chin, the darkness of his eyes, looking for a reason behind the words. But he was Harry, and Tom knew that he would go with the truth, no matter what Tom would think of it. "You're... you're my family, Tom. We chose each other and I'm never going to regret that." He stopped, swallowing. "Do I actually need to punch Ron? What did he say?"

Tom sighed. Harry's words were true in his own heart as well, but family didn't mean brotherhood to him. "No. It's just old memories being drudged up. Let's go."

He spun on his heel and walked faster toward the castle, ignoring Harry's attempts at conversation. It would take five minutes to walk back even at this fast pace and Tom didn't want to have to look at either Harry or the reflection of Tom himself in the water. He yearned to be more, and yet he was this, not the god he wished he could be. This conversation would have to be enough to extinguish the too human feelings that had dug their way into his chest.

"And that's when Cho turned into a hamster—"

Tom looked back long enough to glare at him. Harry had fallen behind, but only just, following Tom easily only when Tom didn't want him to.

"Finally," Harry said, striding closer until they were walking next to each other again. Tom allowed it. "I mean Cho did turn into a hamster, but that was an accident in fourth year and I already told you about it, though you probably don't remember."

"I don't." He did; he remembered everything Harry said about the people he admired. The more Tom knew, the easier he could set in motion something that could keep them away from Harry.

"Although if there's anything I miss about Cho—" The remainder of his sentence was muffled around Tom's hand covering his lips.

"I don't want to hear about Cho, you idiot." Not now. Not right at this very moment as he was attempting to make his way back to the castle and leave the heart that Harry had unknowingly shoved into his chest behind. "I don't want to hear about Ginny. I don't want to hear about your confused dick feelings for Lavender and how you think she's hot on alternate Wednesdays."

Harry's hands came up, one to cover the hand Tom had against his mouth, one to rest just below it around Tom's wrist. Slowly, he tugged Tom's hand away from his mouth, but didn't let go, holding it in the air. His hands were warm, rough from Quidditch. Tom could just barely feel the ridges of one of Harry's childhood scars against the back of his hand. He felt claustrophobic, but at the same time as though the expanse around them was far too wide.

"You've never liked anyone I've been interested in," Harry said, green eyes kinder than they should be with the words that left his mouth. "This future you and Ron were talking about, is it going to be the same then?"

Through his teeth, Tom said, "Yes. You have unbearably bad taste. You don't need her to be happy. If you want to be a part of the Weasley family, you already are. You don't have to marry into it. You don't have to date anyone, for that matter." He stopped, because as much as he wanted what he was saying to be true, he didn't even believe it. The best lies were ones you believed and he'd realized long ago that Harry's emotional well-being past puberty would include romance. A tepid, boring romance with love and flowers. He'd probably name his kids after his parents.

Harry's fingers tightened minutely around Tom's hand.

"Tom, I—" Harry raised his chin with that air of Gryffindor bravery. "If you don't want me to date, you need to offer me an alternative solution."

"You're straight," Tom said, dumbly, unable to immediately take advantage of what Harry was implying.

Harry couldn't meet his eyes for a moment. "I'm not, not exactly. I snogged Ron for a bit once and it was good, but it's not like girls, where I'm more flexible. There's only one guy I've wanted to go for and I figured you didn't want this. I thought you would've said something if you did. You've always said something for everything else."

"How was I supposed to say it?" Tom asked. "Even I'd known you would be interested in a man, I know the personalities of those you've chosen as friends and more all too well. They're kind, they're Gryffindors, they take what you give them instead of grasping at everything. As you've told me too many times, possessiveness is rather ugly. And you can't hold the illusion that I'd ever want to let you go if I knew I could have you." Quieter, bringing his hand to Harry's mouth again, but this time only to stroke the soft skin of his bottom lip, Tom said, "I'm not a good man, no matter how much you've changed me over the years. Your heart would have no quarter from me."

"I don't think it ever has," Harry said, and Tom could feel the way he swallowed, the way he took a step closer, the way he guided Tom's hand to his cheek. "Fuck, Tom, if I wanted good, I wouldn't have let you into every other part of my life. I hardly need a reminder of your possessiveness—you chase people out of my life like it's a sport. You can't imagine I haven't noticed. But most of the time, it's people I don't particularly care about, and when it's someone I love and need, you've given in. I wouldn't love you if you wouldn't ever let me have my way, if you wouldn't agree to the lowest baseline of my ethics. But you do, even if you're an asshat about it sometimes."

"Confessing your love and insulting me in the same breath? If this is your idea of romance, your attempts with others would've failed even without my intervention," Tom said, when he couldn't force out the words he actually needed to say.

He took a step, crossing the rest of the tiniest bit of space still between them, and pulled Harry into him. There wasn't the slightest resistance in Harry's body, in the way he crushed his lips against Tom's, his amused smile turning to passion before long. Tom didn't try to be gentle, and Harry wouldn't have taken that either, deepening the kiss with his hands pulling the back of Tom's head and shoulders closer. Tom wasn't any different; he wanted to leave his touch on every inch of Harry's skin, to brush away every touch that wasn't his own. Earlier, Tom hadn't been able to find satisfaction in cursing Ron, but this was infinitely more satisfying than a curse could've been. This was victory of the hunt, the highest mark he could ever receive, the pleasure of achieving someone's surrender. And yet in love, it wasn't only Harry's surrender. It was his surrender to the fact that this stupid, wonderful man was going to temper him, to keep him from being as ruthless as he could be, because against all his sense of reason, Tom wanted him more than he wanted to watch the light die in the eyes of his enemies.

Tom let Harry pull away to catch his breath, and once he found his own, he said against Harry's lips, "I think you already know you're the only person who's ever found his way into my heart—the only person who ever could. You'll ruin me as much watch me succeed. But there isn't a part of me that would rather see you with someone else."

Harry tilted his forehead to rest against Tom's, still breathing deeply. "Promise me this will be real. I won't stand by you unless it is."

"It'll be as real as I can make it. And if I can't, you'll find a way to help me keep you."

"Damn right," Harry said, his voice soft, the kiss he pressed against Tom's lips even softer. "We've forced ourselves to compromise this far. What's another decade, two, a lifetime?"

Incredibly difficult. Incredibly rewarding. Tom wondered of the universes out there where he and Harry had never found each other so many years ago. Merlin, he would've made a fucking fantastic Dark Lord. But those thoughts faded as he kissed Harry again, as so much of him did when he pushed against the wall of the few morals Harry wouldn't ever compromise on. Self-reflection was all well and good, but Harry's tongue was in his mouth, and Tom chased the quiet noise Harry made until it felt as though there was no air left at all around them.

"Just saying, I still want to have kids one day," Harry eventually groused against Tom's lips.

"We can adopt an orphan for you in a few decades," Tom replied.

"You'll be a much better candidate for minister with some kids," Harry pointed out, but it wasn't a demand as much of an argument against Tom's point, because neither of them could ever let enough alone.

In the parts of his mind that Harry's kiss hadn't quieted yet, Tom could see his five year and ten year and twenty year plans fall apart until he could rework them to include Harry in this way. In a way that would alter them, him, because Harry would be closer, would see the ruthlessness of some plans from that close. He could see years of arguing, winning, conceding, compromising with this stupidly loyal, honorable man. It was madness, but it was a madness that Harry would join him in.

"You'll have a lifetime to convince me, I suppose," Tom said, trying to smirk but it only came out as a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm also on tumblr as @[crownwithoutstones](https://crownwithoutstones.tumblr.com/).


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